


Celebration

by Euterpein



Series: Pride Wives 2020 [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Pride Parades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euterpein/pseuds/Euterpein
Summary: On the first Pride of the rest of their lives, an angel and a demon decide to celebrate among the humans they worked so hard to protect. Crowley has a hard time adjusting to their newfound freedom, and Aziraphale helps.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Pride Wives 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769128
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> Written for week one of the Ineffable Wives Discord server’s Pride Wives 2020 event! Week one’s prompt was “First Pride.”

Crowley breathed slowly, evenly, her eyes closed. She focused on the way the air filled her lungs, let the give and take ground her. Nitrogen, oxygen, argon, carbon, dust. Star stuff, plant filtrates, tailpipe exhalations. She could taste the history of the universe on the tip of her tongue. The sun was strong and it shone through even the dusty windows of the bookshop, pooling by her feet.

A warm hand slipped gently into hers, soft fingers and manicured nails finding their well-worn places tangled up with her own. “Darling.” Her angel’s voice was soft and low. Concerned. It hung suspended in the hushed air like the dust kicked up by their feet. “Are you alright?”

Another breath taken in, out, before yellow eyes hidden behind sunglasses finally open. Aziraphale shouldn’t be able to see it but she smiles like she knows. She always knows, somehow. 

“Yes,” Crowley answered her, though she meant “no.” She knew Aziraphale would hear it anyway. They both stared out the dusty windows of the shop at the riot of colors outside. Vibrantly dressed humans moved past, a steady stream that occasionally broke off in little eddies to form pools of condensed bodies. Shouts of recognition and of joy filtered through in garbled notes, accompanied by harsh, disembodied music and the deep beat of a bass somewhere far away. 

“We don’t have to, you know.” Aziraphale said. “We can just watch them go by. Or go up to the flat and have a nice afternoon in. It can just be another day.”

Crowley gave a weak attempt at a chuckle. “It really can’t.” Her hand squeezed Aziraphale’s a little tighter. 

Aziraphale nodded, understanding. She tossed her riotous blonde curls back a little to lay her head on Crowley’s bony shoulder, placing a little kiss on the bare skin there before gently pressing her cheek to warm flesh. They both turned back to watch the people go by.

Having Aziraphale pressed to her side was a balm to Crowley’s troubled soul. She felt the angel’s warmth soak into her palm, her shoulder, into the very core of her being where Aziraphale had carved a place for herself long ago. Some of the tension she had been feeling drained out of her bit by bit, her breathing growing more even as she let her chest rise and fall in measured bursts. 

It was funny how their roles had seemed to reverse in the wake of the end of the world that wasn’t. (“Funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad one, eh?” Crowley could still remember that first day, its revelations. “Not really,” the angel had said.) Aziraphale had taken to freedom like a flower bursting into bloom, turning its face towards the sunlight. It had been her that had kissed Crowley that night after the Ritz, unashamed and unafraid, bubbling and joyful like the champagne that had still painted their cheeks. It had been her that had suggested they go out among the humans for this. 

(“To celebrate.” She had said, smiling at Crowley over the rim of a wine glass. 

“To celebrate what?” Crowley had asked, mostly just to tease her. It was usually easy to do that far into a bottle of wine, and it always made the blush creep further across the angel’s cheeks fetchingly.

“To celebrate this.” Aziraphale had responded simply, shuffling forward into Crowley’s space and bringing their lips together gently. Crowley hadn’t asked again.)

Crowley, on the other hand, had a hard time making the adjustment to the life of a free woman. The years held too much weight. So many centuries of hiding in the shadows, of smoke and mirrors, of swearing allegiance to a side that had neither her faith nor her heart. Too many years of wanting, of “too fast.” Now that she had what she had always longed for she found herself paralyzed by the fear of losing it. 

The sunlight stretched across the floor as they stood, silently, letting the energy of the celebration outside filter in as late morning blurred into early afternoon. Aziraphale didn’t hurry her. She seemed content to simply be there pressed to Crowley’s side, watching the world go past without them.

It was that thought that made Crowley exhale one final time, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand again to let her know she was ready. This was the world they had fought for, had been working for all these thousands of years. It was the world they had chosen. Crowley knew it would take a long time to stop looking over her shoulder, to stop worrying that this was all some sick joke being played on them by a capricious Creator. In the meantime, though, she intended to cherish what she had.

The swell of heat and music and voices rolled over them as they pushed the bookshop’s door open with a jingle, and they stepped out into the sunlight, together.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride everybody! I'll be back on June 7th with a longer piece for the second week of the Pride Wives event. The prompt is "WLW Icon." Get ready for some smut with our favorite ladies ;P
> 
> More about the event here: https://ineffable-wives-central.tumblr.com/post/619139627286249472/hello-this-is-a-reminder-that-the-ineffable-wives


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